“You should go. What if someone sees you?” Like Ruth, or Burt, or Sangar . . . or anyone who might recognize their local celebr
ity billionaire lurking around the newsroom. How was she going to continue to insist to others that Jacob Latimer meant nothing to her if he pulled stunts like this?
“No one’s going to see me, and I’m not leaving. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you masturbating in here. Sweet, good girl Harper McFadden, bringing herself off at work.” He said it softly, but there was an edge to his tone. She pictured him snarling slightly as he spoke. Excitement prickled through her.
“Come here, Harper.”
The line went dead.
She hung up her phone, staring blankly into space. Of course she wouldn’t go. Out on the main floor of the newsroom, a young female reporter laughed shrilly at something their ad exec said. In the distance, she saw Sangar talking heatedly on his phone through his open office door.
Jacob was out of his mind—not to mention ridiculously cocky—to suggest she go and meet him for a sexual tryst in a bathroom at her workplace.
Nevertheless, she found herself walking out of her office, her feet feeling numb in her pumps and her heart starting a sluggish roll in her ears. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. Was he lying just to get what he wanted?
Did she care, when she craved the same thing?
The south hallway was deserted, still, and dim. The bathrooms down here were private ones, unlike the larger bathroom in the north wing. That was good, but also risky. The private bathrooms were more popular than the common ones.
She came to a halt outside a wood door, her heart now a rapid drumbeat in her ears. She held her breath and reached for the knob. Before she could grab it, it twisted and the door opened several inches. She heard running water, and had a brief impression of Jacob’s towering form. He was wearing a dark blue suit, white shirt, and silver tie, and his face looked set and grim. That was all she saw of him, because he grasped her wrist and pulled her into the bathroom. The next thing she knew, her hands were behind her back and he was pressing her against the hard wood of the closed bathroom door. Her heart knocked against her breastbone. What the hell?
She heard the click of the lock.
Air hissed out of her lungs when he flattened the front of his body to the back of hers, sandwiching her against himself and the door.
“Jacob, what are you doing?” she asked in a strangled voice.
He lifted her hair from her neck, clutching it in his hand. She gasped at the sensation of his lips moving along her skin. He scraped his teeth gently along a cord of muscle, making her shudder. “I’m going to have you, Harper,” he said very quietly next to her ear.
“No,” she muttered weakly. His mouth opened over her ear, his kiss causing a suction that made her shiver uncontrollably. She struggled against his solid, hard weight, but that was a mistake. He pressed closer, and she felt his erection. It wasn’t a partial one, as if he’d just begun to get aroused when they came into contact. He was fully, flagrantly erect. How long had he been waiting, planning to pounce on her here? His long fingers slid beneath her jaw. “Jacob, you can’t just come here and—”
He pushed on her face, forcing her to turn her chin over her shoulder. He tilted his head. His mouth covered hers. Oh, Jesus. Sensation rushed through her. She tasted him, that increasingly familiar, addictive flavor. But it was more than that. She tasted his hunger. It was like mainlining an intoxicant straight into her blood. He penetrated her mouth with his tongue, stroking her boldly. Lewdly. Harper felt herself rising like a freed helium balloon, her lust rapidly mounting to match his. He pressed tighter against her from the back, the column of his cock grinding against the top of her buttocks and her lower back. He crushed against her hard. His kiss was harsh. It hurt a little, given the awkward angle and his forcefulness. It also enflamed her.
She tangled her tongue with his, moaning into his aggressive kiss. Maybe he considered that desperate moan a surrender—and maybe it was—because when he released her from his punishing kiss, she didn’t protest any further. She just panted, looking over her shoulder, trying to see what he was doing. She couldn’t see his face, but she felt it when his hands moved quickly. He was slipping a strap around her wrists. It tightened. She inhaled sharply in anxious excitement. He’d just bound her wrists behind her back.
He actually had brought a wrist restraint into her work bathroom. His daring left her speechless. For a few seconds, her breath stuck painfully in her lungs.
“Don’t be afraid,” she heard him murmur from behind her. “I’m not going to hurt you. If I did, all you’d have to do is scream. Okay?”
She nodded once.
“Come here.”
He backed her across the bathroom, guiding her with his hands on her upper arms. His touch was gentle, despite the outrageousness of what he was doing. He urged her downward. Harper sat, hitting the closed toilet seat with a muted thump.
She looked up at him, her mouth hanging open. He was already intent on another task: unbuttoning her red silk blouse with fleet fingers, a grim sense of determination on his lean, handsome face. He jerked her blouse open and lowered the cups of her bra beneath her nipples in two quick, succinct movements. She saw a snarl shape his lips as he stared down at her exposed breasts. Her nipples tightened before he even reached to run his fingertips over the sensitive globes. He squeezed firmly, his nostrils flaring. He pinched lightly at her hard nipples, and liquid heat rushed through her sex.
“Why are you doing this?” she moaned, because it felt so good. So dirty.
“Because I want to,” he responded without hesitation. His gaze rose to fasten on her face. He continued to massage her breasts and pinch at the nipples. “I’ve wanted to do something like this since the second you walked out the door the other day.” Holding her stare, he dropped one hand. Harper watched, slack-jawed, as he ran his hand up and down over his cock. The shape of his erection—the long, thick shaft and the succulent, defined cap—were made clear against the fabric of his dress pants and his stroking hand. Saliva filled her mouth, making her close her lips. As if he’d known what reaction he had on her, he lifted a hand to her mouth and pressed his thumb against her lower lip, applying a firm pressure and running it back and forth.
“Jacob—” she mouthed.
“I told you that you were going to have to pay for making me want you this much. I haven’t had a moment’s peace since I went away,” he said.
“That’s not my fault.”
“No. But you’ll still be the one to pay.”